fracturedrp | The Call

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The Call

As the 'day' of the appointment arrives, relative to the council on Gallifrey's time, the Time Lords make good on the unspoken threats in their invitations. Those who do not arrive are hunted, tracked through the universe by the very machines they flee in.

Ripples and disturbances in time, abominations and paradoxes, fixed points and impossibilities, these are the easiest to find and to track, but the truly clever and resourceful--and sometimes the lucky--might just avoid the sweeping hands of Gallifrey and its hounds.

Yet, those with metacrises born of this December's crisis will find the further they try to run away from Gallifrey, the more difficult it becomes. As if the rift itself is acting up, every step in the wrong direction brings increasing agony upon the metacrises, and even upon their counterparts the strain is that of walking further than their mental leashes allow.

You may run, but how long can you hide from the call of the Time Lords?

[OoC: The time has come to face the music. Another post will be made for the actual Council meeting, but threading out attempted or successful escapes, captures, or even willing arrivals will be made here. Thread-jumping will be allowed only within reason, considering the differing time and space between the threads.

Remember: If you didn't participate in All Hands plot and land yourself with a metacrisis, you can choose to escape with some cleverness on the part of your character. If you do have a metacrisis, however, capture and arriving on Gallifrey is inevitable.]

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"Master?" Andrew spots the Master from where he and the Meta-Meta have been herded by their escort. Or where Andrew's been herded, rather, and pulled the Meta-Meta as gently along as he could. The blond has become almost entirely unresponsive after the ordeal of their flight and capture and the energy-damping field the Time Lords put on him.

Andrew frowns, stopping a short distance away. "You too?" he asks.

The Master nodded courteously to Andrew and the meta-meta.

"Hello, Andrew. Yes, I received the summons. I'm a bit surprised to see you here, however. Did you come with the Doctor?"

"I - we tried not to come here at all. They weren't having it." He was a bit surprised not only that this Master (being a fairly normal example of the Master, sans all sorts of energy powers) had received a summons, but that he'd obeyed it.

The Master smirked, nodding wisely. He could have warned them, if he had known. The Time Lords were a powerful race and quite used to getting whatever they wanted.

"This is unusual, you know. In all my years as a Time Lord and a renegade, I've never known the High Council to issue such a blanket summons."

It wasn't that they hadn't known the extent of the Time Lords' powers - Andrew still feels that they made a pretty good run for it. Anyway, they couldn't just let themselves be captured without at least trying to escape.

"Makes you wonder what they're after," he agrees uneasily. He was surprised that the Time Lords who caught them didn't do anything worse than damp the meta-meta's energy, as grossly unnecessary as that had been. "I would have thought you could have gotten out of it, if anyone could," he adds.

"I might have been able, but possibly not," the Master admitted. "In any case, I was curious enough to want to come. They wouldn't issue such a summons lightly. There might be something here worth taking advantage of."

"But you don't have any better idea what's going on." Andrew really, really doesn't want to be here. There's very little he'll be able to do to 'take advantage' of anything under the current circumstances.

"No, I know more than you do," the Master informed him calmly.

The Master wasn't bothered, overly, by the lack of the information. It could very well be attributed to his people's love of bullying, melodrama, and theatrics. He was certainly hoping that was the case. If not, well, the Master wasn't stupid enough, as he saw it, to show up unarmed.

That, at least, snapped Handy out of his moping about being dragged here by dint of making him suddenly annoyed. "Oh, do you?" he asked sharply. "Care to share what it is you think you know that I don't?"

The Master chuckled, knowing full well the arrogance of his statement, given that Andrew possessed most of the Doctor's memories. Still, it was almost as much fun to irritate Andrew, as it was to rile the proper Doctor. The Master simply could not resist.

"Indeed. I know how to get in and out of the Matrix. That alone could provide knowledge, that they might not want me to have."

Of course, the Master was assuming that the Matrix of this Gallifrey was mostly similar to the one in his reality. The Master believed he would have few problems, even if the differences were great. He was a genius and a child of this world, raised on its technologies.

Andrew huffed at that. "I doubt that's why you're here - though good job admitting to it when we both know they'll be listening in." Though the Time Lords may have known that already. Andrew turned a little toward the meta-meta, peering into his eyes again and finding him just as distant as before. He sighed worriedly and looked to the Master again.

"We shouldn't argue," he said sullenly, tone belying his words.

The Master smirked. Oh, he didn't doubt that the Time Lords were listening. Let them. The Master didn't need secrecy to form his plans. The Time Lords should, after all, be well aware of what he was capable of. It was more important, for now, that they realize that the Master was in no way intimidated. He smiled at Andrew with an almost absurd serenity.

"Why shouldn't we, my dear Andrew? It's an entertaining enough way to pass the time, until we learn more. I haven't decided what my goal in being here is yet, so we might as well relax."

"Relax? I can't relax. We're trapped here with no idea of when these people are from or what they want, and you want me to relax?" Andrew's voice rose unsteadily in pitch as he spoke, until he was practically squeaking in outrage. "I always knew you had a few screws loose, Master, but now is not the time to relax."

The Master stared at him, a bit amazed and decidedly amused. He shook his head.

"My dear Andrew, calm yourself! Keep a cool head and we will make use of the opportunities presented to us. Becoming agitated will only interfere with your ability to reason!"

Calming himself was really sort of out of the question for Andrew at the moment. He shook a finger at the Master, still agitated. "You're the one who wanted a fight!"

"Oh, more an argument, in the form of intellectual debate," the Master assured him, smiling. "Honestly, we should find someway to focus our minds and steady our nerves. Displaying any weakness to the Time Lords is a very bad idea. You do remember, when the Doctor was on trial?"

"Because debating amongst ourselves is really going to help," spat Handy, still tense and unwilling or unable to wind down and calm himself as he'd been advised to do. He knew the Master was right about displaying weakness, but the situation was rapidly spiraling out of any illusion of control he'd ever had.

"Forgive me. I should have realized that the human part of your mind would find rationality at at time like this almost impossible," the Master symapthized, sardonically.

The words were harsh, but he thought that anger might cut through some of what the Master perceived as nervousness, leaving Andrew able to think more clearly and gain some sort of control.

"I am perfectly rational!" That particular sore spot of Andrew's was a large one, and probably terribly obvious. He seethed for a few seconds, at least some of his nervousness burned away, just as the Master had intended. "You," he said, "Don't know anything about it."

"I know that anger will serve you better than fear," the Master told him, calmly, with a slight, smug smile.

Too much anger, though, could be a bad thing. Just possibly.

"Oh, so now it's some sort of brilliant master plan of yours? Don't you dare pick a fight with me and act like you're doing me a favor!"

Quite probably, but the Master was too amused to care. Sadly, being bored was not something he handled well, especially when trying to give an appearance of being reasonable.

"I dare what I like," the Master countered, grinning. "In any case, I prefer this mood of yours to your brooding."

This was something Andrew should probably work on. In the meantime, though, he found himself wholly incapable of calming down, even if his anger only served to amuse the Master.

"Oh, as long as the Master prefers it!" he snapped. "You've trapped yourself in a universe you don't know the first thing about, and you've delivered yourself right into the hands of a council that'll probably have us all put out of their misery on general principles, but so long as you're amused I suppose everything's bloody hunky-dory!"

"Stop being melodramatic, Andrew," the Master instructed disdainfully. "First, you helped trap me in this universe. Second, no one is going to execute me. Do you really think the Doctor is simply going to submit? You're supposed to have his intelligence. Use it."

"I did not!" objected Andrew. "You chose to send that pulse! Anyway, it was Märetskaldenon who suggested it, not me."

He glowered at the Master. "And now you trust the Doctor to save us? Tell me, how often has he saved you in the past?"

The Call

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XD That was supposed to read "no more" oopses.

LOL, could let you go back and edit? Or could just let him taunt Andrew. XD

Naw, that's okay. Might as well run with it.

XD Okay, but I'm off to bed after this tag.

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